


Tethered

by Mariss95



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariss95/pseuds/Mariss95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver is ill but he refuses to stand down</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tethered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Georgiathewholedaythrough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Georgiathewholedaythrough/gifts).



> A sweet one-shot written for this prompt georgiathewholedaythrough sent on tumblr:  
> “An ill Oliver, who refuses to take it easy because y'know saving the city but then he gets worse and so Felicity takes him home and takes care of him.”

 

_I'll be brave when you are frightened._

_You'll be strong when I am weak in the knees._

_I'll be calm when you have had enough of these rushing waves._

_You'll be the oxygen I need._

 

“This would be a great time to say ‘I told you so’. You know, if I were the kind of person who said that.”

Oliver simply shot her a warning look as he pulled his injured arm from the green jacket. Diggle watched the scene unfold from the sidelines, an amused smile on his face.

It was a normal night in the arrow cave. Oliver and Diggle had just stopped a gang of arm dealers. It had been a case like many others, until Oliver came back with a large gash on his forearm.

“I thought they had guns,” Felicity had said, upon their entry to the lair.

“Yeah, we didn’t count on one of them having a knife,” Diggle had quipped. Judging by his light tone Felicity supposed the wound wasn’t serious; still Oliver looked like hell. Well, as bad as he could look.

He had been sick for over two weeks now. It had started with some coughing and headaches and, no matter how hard Felicity fought to make him slow down, he had refused. _Classic stubborn Oliver_.

Whenever she tried to remind him he was human he simply stated he was fine, that he didn’t get sick. Last Saturday, after he had come down with a fever she had talked him into drinking one of his healing teas, with the island’s magic herbs; still he had kept going, knowing they had to stop the weapon traffic in the Glades.

Fast forward to Thursday night, where he sat before her on the foundry’s table looking down at the cut on his arm. Felicity quietly went for the medicine cabinet as Diggle bid them goodbye, shooting her a sympathetic look. She gave him a slight nod in return that translated to ‘I’ll take care of him’.

With the antiseptic at hand she walked back to Oliver’s side and deftly examined his wound. Dig was right, it was quite shallow, but it was unlike Oliver to get caught off guard by low level thuds, especially ones that needed guns to protect themselves. She had seen the fight unfold through the security cameras. It was clear by his hesitant stance and the way he faltered that he wasn’t fine at all. Now as he sat on the table, slumped shoulders and watery eyes, he looked exhausted.

“You look terrible. I knew I shouldn’t have let you hood up today”.

He shrugged it off, as always trying to downplay his suffering, in part not to worry her but also because he was used to suppressing the pain.

“What makes you think you could have?,” he asked teasingly. She gave him a pointed look, a dainty eyebrow raised. _She definitely could have; he knew that_. When Felicity stood her ground there was no one and nothing stopping her.

She worked on his wound, going over the process she now knew by heart. Clean up, disinfect and stitch up. Sometimes she wondered how she had winded up stitching Oliver Queen up the basement of a club; but then she could certainly be worse off.

Oliver watched her work in silence, admiring the cute way she tilted her head to the side, biting down on her lower lip as she concentrated and how worried lines appeared on her forehead as she sympathized with his pain.

When she was done their eyes met and just as he was about to talk she silenced him placing her delicate fingers over his lips.

“Don’t even try to tell me that you are okay one more time ‘cause I know you are not, even by your crazy standards,” she said in what he knew was her loud voice. “We are going home right now and I’m taking care of you”.

Oliver smiled beneath her fingers and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. She rolled her eyes, hearing the double meaning on her words and mumbled “not like _that_ ”.

Pulling at his hands she raised him to his feet and told him to change as she gathered her things.

She drove them to her apartment as he silently followed her lead, feeling drowsy. Once inside he slumped into his favorite couch, feeling the stress of the day weighting him down.

Felicity sighed at the sight of a deflated Oliver and walked to him. She cupped his face, lightly running her fingernails over his stubble like she knew he liked. His blue eyes snapped shut at her touch, the tension leaving his body. When they opened back again he saw her frowning, concern clouding her face.

“Hey,” he whispered, grabbing her attention. He stopped himself before uttering ‘I’m fine’ again, knowing it would annoy her more than anything, but still felt the need to sooth her. “I’m not that bad, it’s just a rough cold”.

She huffed, a humorless smile tugging at her lips. “At least you are admitting it now. It only took you getting stabbed for it to sink in through that thick head of yours”.

He chuckled under his breath, knowing despite her tone she wasn’t really mad at him. “Well I was promised to be taken care of…,” he countered, an inquisitive eyebrow raised at her.

She lowered her hands from his face until her fingers reached the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He pressed his mouth into a hard line as he lifted his wounded arm, making them both wince. When the shirt got discarded her fingers brushed over the cut, blue eyes traveling the length of his chest, to the set of scars she had now committed to memory. Now there was a new one and she cringed thinking of how much more he could take.

Oliver noticed the worried look on her face and felt the need to touch her, hold her close. His hands settled on her hips, pulling her between his legs, and leaned forward, resting his forehead on her chest. She sighed, welcoming the weight of his body against hers, her fingers running through his short hair until they rested at the nape of his neck.

“You got to start taking better care of yourself, Oliver. I can’t lose you,” she breathed into his hair, feeling slightly guilty over her request, but knowing he wouldn’t stop unless it was for other people’s sake. In response he slid his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him, reassuring her he was there.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he hummed against her stomach.

She drew back from the tight embrace after a few minutes, her hands moving to trace the planes of his face as he looked up at her with tired eyes. She leaned down, her lips covering his for a quick peck, and then she was gone.

Oliver trudged to her room and changed into his pajama pants, one of the many things he had left on her apartment over the last few months, when their relationship had changed from partners to much more.

Felicity entered the room and with a soft nudge made him lay on the bed. She straddled him, avoiding his heated glare, instead focusing on his chest and begun to apply vapor rub on it. He took a sharp breath at the first cold contact but then sank further onto the mattress, enjoying her touch and the relief the cream gave his tired body.

When his eyes fluttered shut she gawked at his body, still not over it after all this time. Tender fingers traced every line on his chest, ending on his broad neck.

His eyes shot open instantly at the absence of her touch and he saw her disappear through the bathroom door, returning a few minutes later in her pajamas and ready for bed. He smiled at how domestic and normal this felt, something he didn’t think he could get whilst being the Arrow. Through hooded eyes he saw a warm smile appear on her face, the first real one he had seen since he had came back with the stab wound. He wanted to do whatever it took to see her smiling more often, it being one of his favorite sights.

Felicity crawled onto her side of the bed and handed him an aspirin. He silently complied, knowing there was no use in fighting her on this. Her smile widened at that and, after placing a soft kiss against his lips, she nestled up against him, relishing his touch and the minty smell of his skin.

Oliver dropped a light kiss on her forehead and, before sleep took over him, whispered “I love you”.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Thanks for reading! As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)


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